


Jolly Good Pals

by speculum_magicus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x14 coda, 12x16 coda, 12x17 coda, Bottom Dean, Coda, Dean Finds Out About Mr. Ketch and His Mum, Episode: s12e14 The Raid, Episode: s12e16 Ladies Drink Free, Episode: s12e17 The British Invasion, M/M, Mr. Ketch Takes What He Wants, Rough Sex, Scotch is Always a Good Incentive, Slight Canon Divergence, Sub Dean, Top Arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 18:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10996605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speculum_magicus/pseuds/speculum_magicus
Summary: Because that drinking scene in the war room just kept haunting me.Dean Winchester and Arthur Ketch both like having sex to unwind; it’s as easy as that. Coda to a couple of S12 episodes.





	1. Chapter 1

After Dean entered the Bunker, he strolled into the library and yelled, “Sammy? Luci! I-“ but stopped midsentence as he got hold of a note telling him that Sam went out and would be back later. Dismissive, he walked to the liquor cabinet, desperate for something to drink. Unnerved that every bottle he picked up was empty, he just thudded the last of them back on the table when he suddenly heard a knock on the door.

Absolutely sure that his little brother had forgotten his keys again, Dean opened the door.

“Hello, mate.” Mr. Ketch said.

Dean was taken aback by the British visitor. “How’d you find us?” Dean asked.

“Well, this is a Men of Letters bunker. The location is no secret to us.”

“Okay, cool. Well, good talk.” Dean said, reaching for the door handle, ready to shut the door in front of Mr. Ketch’s face, but he was stopped as Mr. Ketch firmly smacked his hand against the door to keep it open.

“And whilst I understand that you’re not feeling warmly disposed to me,” Mr. Ketch said, moving closer to Dean, both hands now firmly behind his back. “I wonder, what’s your disposition to this incredibly rare, unspeakably expensive, bottle of barrel proof Scotch?” Mr. Ketch asked, presenting Dean with a stylish, red cylinder. Dean gulped at the sight of it. It was true that he wasn’t overly fond of any of the British Men of Letters guys, but that was one fine bottle of Scotch and Dean was really desperate to get a hold on something to drink. So reluctantly, he let Mr. Ketch enter the bunker.

~µ~

Seated across each other at the conference table in the war room, Mr. Ketch looked around and tried to engage Dean in a conversation, but Dean was just not having it. 

“Well, surely, you have some questions. Why I’m here, for instance.”

“You’re here to recruit us. You already got Mary playing your game. You want me. And Sam.”

“Well, I don’t, but the old lads have taken a quite a shine to you.”

“Mm. Well, maybe they shouldn’t have sent some chick to try to kill us.” Dean retorted. 

“Yes – Toni. No one predicted she would go rogue. No one but me.” Mr. Ketch said slightly annoyed. ”I had a sneak peak at what a neurotic, overreaching, time bomb she was.” Mr. Ketch paused for a moment. “We used to date.” He added, blasé. 

“Huh. Yeah, I can see that.” Dean chuckled.

“Dean, I don’t give a toss if you sign up. Honestly, I don’t care if you live or die. But since we’re such jolly good pals now-“

“Jolly good, huh?” Dean said sarcastically, looking over to Mr. Ketch.

“Let me just say that the Men of Letters is an excellent fit for someone with our inclinations.”

“’Our?’ As in you and me?” 

“You’re a killer, Dean Winchester, and so am I. And if we go too long without something to track or trap or punch or gut, well things get a bit ugly. Don’t they?” Mr. Ketch said appraising Dean, his voice deeper, more sensual at the end of the sentence.

“Yeah, especially in sexual regards,’” Dean thought as he looked over at Mr. Ketch and took another sip of his drink. 

“The Men of Letters keep me busy. They point me in a direction and bang. Off to the races. It’s not a bad life.” Mr. Ketch said, looking directly at Dean, making it sound like the perfect sales pitch. After all, didn’t Dean do just this most of his life? Follow the orders of his dad like a good little soldier?

Mr. Ketch lowered his eyes and took his drink. “Speaking of…” He stood up and moaned as he downed his drink. “Now that you’ve heard what I have to say, places to be, vampires to behead.” He said, turning away from the table, ready to leave.

“You got a line on vamps?” Dean asked, shifting his eyes so he wouldn’t appear too interested, even though he was actually dying to get his fingers on some vamps. It has been too long and he was itching for some messy action with his machete.

“I do.” Mr. Ketch said, turning back towards Dean. “Interested?” He asked, waiting for Dean to take the bait.

Dean took a second to think before he downed his drink as well. “Let me just grab my jacket,” he said, stomping off towards his room, not realizing that he was closely followed by Mr. Ketch. 

Dean was just reaching for his jacket on the bed when he suddenly heard Mr. Ketch’s voice behind him, “It’s good to know that you are so easily persuaded to help me, but-,“ Mr. Ketch pointed at the jacket in Dean’s hand, “I didn’t tell you that you could actually join me. I was merely asking if you’re interested.” Mr. Ketch stated, smirking, standing in the doorframe.

Dean looked at him, quizzically and slightly annoyed. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Dean,” Mr. Ketch said, stepping closer to him, “but I think if there’s one thing you like even more than a good kill, then it has to be a good shag. And judging from your gauging looks over scotch and this bulge,” he said while stroking over Dean’s half-erect penis through his jeans, “which I’m pretty confident is no gun,” a deep, greedy, and through and through predatory look into Dean’s eyes, “I dare assume that you’d like me to –as you would say- fuck you.” Mr. Ketch said, confidently.

“Whow, whow. Easy there!” Dean retorted, letting out a small, abrasive laugh and immediately stepping away from Mr. Ketch. “Listen, you British son of a bitch. I don’t know what you’ve been up to at the other side of the pond, but I’m the only one banging around here, capisce? And that does not include dudes!” Dean replied firmly, taking another few steps to the side.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you are saying, Dean.” Mr. Ketch replied in a condescending tone, rolling his eyes. “But if you seriously think that I would believe for just a second that you haven’t taken it up the arse before and actually enjoyed it, then you are really stupider than I thought you are.” Mr. Ketch said, standing once again in front of Dean now and undoing Dean’s belt. “I know your kind, Dean.” Mr. Ketch said as he slowly pulled the belt from out of Dean’s jeans. “You might appear to be a stone-cold killer like me, but deep down you are nothing more but a docile, little boy who likes getting orders and following them slavishly.” Mr. Ketch’s eyes hungry for compliance. Dean just looked at him, unable to move or say anything. 

Mr. Ketch threw the belt to the floor and now slowly started unbuttoning and unzipping Dean’s jeans. “I’ve studied your file intensely, Dean, and I’ve talked to many people, so I know that you preen yourself on being irresistible for women, but what I wonder is,” one of his hands sliding into Dean’s jeans, “did you actually think that it went unnoticed how many times you’ve hooked up with random chaps in shady men’s rooms?” A firm grip and tug at Dean’s cock, “How often you’ve shagged other hunters or truckers behind cheap pubs or in their trucks and cars,” Dean moaned, turned on by the truth and memory of those encounters but also because Mr. Ketch now began stroking him in earnest. “And that every time you had a sexual encounter with men you always topped it off with a ménage à trois with two stunning, young ladies afterwards to… Well, I guess… to prove to yourself that you aren’t actually into men and you just slipped.” Mr. Ketch continued, Dean’s cock meanwhile having become rock-hard in his hand. 

Dean tilted his head back, groaned and cursed under his breath, wondering how the hell he knew all of this. Hadn’t the Men of Letters only been following them for the last couple of months, of which he and Sam had even been locked up most of the time? Dean didn’t have much time to think about any of this or even ask because Mr. Ketch had unnoticeably retracted his hand, had walked away from Dean, and was currently closing the door. 

“Get rid of your clothes and get on the bed,” Mr. Ketch ordered, calm and collected without any flicker of emotion, facing the door. “On all fours. Legs spread.” He continued as he turned around, took off his jacket, discarded it over a chair, and opened his own pair of jeans. 

Dean did as he was told and took of his clothes quickly but more clumsily than usual. As he climbed onto the mattress, he swore, but still followed the order he was given. Mr. Ketch looked at Dean and smirked knowingly, proud of himself and his skills to read people so easily. He just knew that Dean got off on this, got off on being an obedient little soldier who’s not only willing, but also in dire need of getting orders he could follow.

Retrieving a small bottle of lube from his back pocket, Mr. Ketch positioned himself behind Dean. He poured some of the lube into his hand and after having spread Dean’s legs a little wider, he started circling Dean’s hole with his fingers. “Stay still,” he warned Dean with a slap on his ass when Dean started moving, an involuntary reaction to the cold liquid on the one hand and the unfamiliar touch on the other. “I didn’t tell you that you could move.” Mr. Ketch said sharply.

“Yes.” Dean murmured meekly. The slap only spurring him on even more.

“That is ‘yes, sir’ for you, Dean!” Mr. Ketch demanded, laughing inside about just how easy this was. He had expected for Dean to be submissive, but this was almost too easy. And his mind immediately started imagining a plethora of scenarios in which he could use that to his advantage in the future.

“Yes, sir.” Dean repeated, strained. Though it felt weird having Mr. Ketch’s fingers massaging his rear, he also couldn’t resist the urge to scream at him or just move himself in a certain way so Mr. Ketch would speed up the process and finally dive into him. 

Mr. Ketch rubbed against Dean’s entrance for another moment before he let one of his coated fingers sink in right to the knuckle. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” He asked and Dean could only moan. 

“So obedient. Aren’t you?” Dean moaned again, but this time he managed to reply, “Y-yes, sir,” before Mr. Ketch started moving his lube coated finger in and out of him. It didn’t take long until Mr. Ketch added first one and then two additional fingers and started scissoring him open, making him curse out loud every time Mr. Ketch brushed over his prostate. Dean had to use all of his willpower not to push back against Mr. Ketch’s fingers, which were moving too painfully slow for his taste. And though Dean didn’t utter it out loud, he yearned for Mr. Ketch to get on with it and replace his fingers with his cock. He enjoyed the mix of pain and pleasure he felt as Mr. Ketch prepared him, but he was desperate for the even bigger pleasure and pain he would feel once Mr. Ketch actually fucked him. 

Mr. Ketch, who had been pleasuring Dean with one hand and himself with the other one, now freed his cock from its constriction in his underpants and removed his fingers. Dean whined about the loss of fingers and rocked back against thin air, but another slap on his backside and, ”patience, little soldier,” made him go still instantly. 

“Now tell me, Dean... Do you want me to stop?” Mr. Ketch asked, putting on a condom. “And do you still intend to convince me that you only like women?” He continued, coating the condom on his dick. “Or do you wish to continue fucking yourself on my fingers?” Mr. Ketch asked, circling Dean’s entrance once again with his fingers. “You have to tell me, Dean. What do you want? Shall I stop…“ Mr. Ketch removed his fingers and Dean immediately whined again, making Mr. Ketch smirk. “Or do you want me to continue and fill you up with something else, something much bigger than just my fingers?” Mr. Ketch asked, now circling Dean’s entrance with his cock. “Do you want that? Come on tell me. After all, I do need your consent. Do you want me stop or do you wish for me to-“

“Yes!” Dean burst out. “Yes, please. Sir, yes, please, fuck me. I want to feel you in me. Please, just do it.” Dean begged, not caring about how desperate and suppliant he sounded.

Mr. Ketch just smirked again and immediately pushed inside Dean all the way to the balls, making Dean curse out loud. He remained in this position for a moment, giving Dean the chance to adjust. But Dean didn’t want to take it slow and easy and therefore quickly started squirming, greedy and needy for being ruthlessly fucked by this British assassin. And Mr. Ketch was more than willing to obey; he gripped Dean on both sides of his hip, his nails digging deep into Dean’s soft flesh, and immediately started thrusting into him in a relentless, fast pace.

Though Dean felt a burning pain in his abdomen, he much more enjoyed the pleasure it simultaneously brought him. Absentminded, he reached a hand down to jerk himself off, but Mr. Ketch slapped him again, saying, “You wait your turn!” 

Dean moaned as a reaction, but he didn’t dare to disobey. Instead he tried to steady himself on the headboard and just endure every thrust into him with as much stoic endurance as he could muster. He wished to touch himself, but he wasn’t allowed to. He wished to speed up the pace in which Mr. Ketch’s cock brushed over his prostate, something he would never admit to actually enjoy, but he wasn’t allowed to do that either. He wanted to scream till everyone in a ten miles radius would know just how much he enjoyed being fucked instead of being the one who fucks someone and how good he was at begging, desperate for sexual release. But Dean didn’t know if he was allowed to scream. Surely, that would result in another round of slaps on his ass. But would that really be that bad? After all, Dean’s involuntary reaction to it when Mr. Ketch did it to him was that it only spurred him on even more. 

Unsure what to do, Dean buried his face in a pillow and just starting screaming to no end. Though he had consented to this, Mr. Ketch had not been tender in the slightest, but had kept relentlessly thrusting into him, searching only for his own release. Though Dean knew that Sam was nowhere near in the bunker, he still didn’t want to run the risk of either Sam, Cas, or worst of all, his own mum running into his room and thereby walking in on him getting mercilessly fucked by the same British fella who just as mercilessly killed anyone and anything that stood in the British Men of Letters’ way. 

Suddenly, and without a word of warning, Mr. Ketch just stopped and pulled out of Dean entirely. For a split-second Dean wondered what had happened and thought that Mr. Ketch might have pulled out because he had already climaxed and didn’t want to come inside Dean, but when he looked over his shoulder, he saw that Mr. Ketch was smiling at him and was palming his still erect penis. 

“What’s the matter, Dean? Are you so afraid someone could hear your moans and discover just how much you enjoy being shagged that you have to stoop so low as to stifle your moans and screams with the help of a pillow?” Dean blushed. “Oh, so you are? Interesting! Well, I will tell you one thing, there’s nothing more arousing than hearing the screams and pleas of people you either torture or fuck, or both. So… what I’m basically saying is, you have a choice here, Dean. Either you let me hear those wonderful, pain and lust filled screams of yours or…” Mr. Ketch made a point of moving away from where he was standing behind Dean and walking around the bed towards Dean’s face, throwing the condom in the trash in the process, “or I have to make use of that beautiful big mouth of yours so I can at least enjoy the pained look on your face while I’m enjoying myself.”

Dean gulped and looked down from Mr. Ketch’s face directly at his dick. He only looked at it for a second before Mr. Ketch declared, “excellent choice!” and rolled another condom on his penis. He grabbed Dean’s head with one hand and held his cock with the other, directing it towards Dean’s mouth. Dean panicked for a second but then opened up and tentatively took in Mr. Ketch’s cock. First he just licked and sucked on the head, happy that Mr. Ketch’s grip wasn’t too tight, but once he swallowed his member whole, Mr. Ketch moved his hand from his dick towards Dean’s hair so that he was now gripping Dean’s head with both hands. His grip tightened as he now started to relentlessly continue what he had started with Dean’s hole by thrusting into his mouth instead. 

Mr. Ketch moved without mercy and only when Dean started gagging, did Mr. Ketch back off a little bit. But after it happened a second and a third time, Mr. Ketch finally pulled out of Dean’s mouth and let him have a breather. 

Dean panted. Fuck that man really knew what he wanted and just how rough he wanted it. “Again!” Mr. Ketch ordered after only a few seconds. And that right there was enough to fry even the last of Dean’s circuits. Being all too familiar with this neutral tone since childhood, it was a command Dean couldn’t have disobeyed even if he’d have tried to. He was completely lost to the demanding, cold, military tone in Mr. Ketch’s voice. “Sir,” he said, his voice strangled. “Yes, sir.” Dean obediently opened his mouth, letting it completely go loose now. At this point he didn’t even dare to think about anything else anymore, he just let it happen, let Mr. Ketch use him in any way he wished to use him. 

And just like he did a few moments ago, Mr. Ketch enjoyed himself for a while before he abruptly stopped. And this time he didn’t say anything or even gave Dean any kind of warning, he just threw Dean on the bed, slapped his ass, and finished what he had started by once again thrusting into Dean’s hole. But this time, Dean didn’t have the fortune of having pillows near his face to stifle any of the sounds he made, so all his moans and screams filled the room and multiplied in volume as they bounced off the hard bunker walls until it was the only sound that could be heard for another three rooms around them. And at this point Dean really didn’t, or rather couldn’t, care anymore. He was so far gone, all his brain processed at this point was the pleasure he experienced by being fucked by this British assassin.

Mr. Ketch just smiled, happy that Dean was no longer able to hide his true self, his lustful screams just turning him on. As Mr. Ketch was now half-lying on Dean, Dean couldn’t move much to make it more comfortable for him or reach for a pillow, but luckily it also meant that he was able to rut against the sheets beneath him. Therefore it didn’t take him long till he came, feeling the wet patch beneath him getting bigger the more Mr. Ketch moved in and out of him and thereby pumping him through his orgasm. But having Mr. Ketch still thrusting into him began feeling rather uncomfortable after a while, as did the pool of semen that was getting sticky now, but luckily it didn’t take Mr. Ketch too long to follow suit and climax as well. He rolled off Dean and lay still beside him in bed.

Dean just started thinking about a few things, and he concluded that he had thoroughly never felt better and worse at the same time. This was definitely, if not **the best** fuck, then definitely at least one of top five fucks he’d ever had, and that didn’t even consider the fact that, no matter what Mr. Ketch might have said and found out about him, it truly was his first time bottoming for anyone. Maybe he should rethink a few aspects.

“Okay. That was refreshing.” Mr. Ketch suddenly said and jumped up from bed. “Now let’s hunt us some vampires, Dean.” He added, throwing the second condom in the trash. “I expect you to be ready in 10. No fannying about!” Mr. Ketch concluded, grabbed his clothes and walked out of the room. 

Dean was still a little bit out of it, but he knew he better complied. He knew, he could still take his time to recover during the car ride over to the vamps nest, so he got on his feet and quickly followed Mr. Ketch to the showers. And much to Mr. Ketch’s delight, Dean was packed and ready standing by his car after only 8 minutes. 

~µ~~µ~~µ~

Dean and Mr. Ketch pulled up at a beat up More Rest Hotel. The odds of being two against ten bloodsuckers being definitely after Dean’s fancy.

“The sun will be down in an hour, so we should move fast. Keep the rats from fleeing the ship.” Mr. Ketch said, assembling his gun while looking towards the sun. Dean was eyeing Mr. Ketch’s large gun for a few minutes before he said, “fancy,” dismissing Mr. Ketch as someone who’s too afraid to get his hands dirty when killing.

“You’re right. This is too easy. Got another of those?” Mr. Ketch asked while gesturing towards Dean’s machete, suddenly thrilled by the idea of executing this kill more bloody than usual. Dean looked at his own machete for a second before he reached for another one in the trunk of the impala and gave it to Mr. Ketch.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Always.” Mr. Ketch retorted and started walking. Dean just rolled his eyes, unnerved by the innuendo, and followed him into the beat up Hotel.

Because the place seemed empty as they walked in, they split up and started looking for vampires separately, Mr. Ketch already evaluating his chances of having another go with Dean once they eliminated every vampire hiding in there.

~µ~

After having checked the upstairs of the hotel, Dean went back into the lobby, waiting for Mr. Ketch to return as well. Once he saw Mr. Ketch approaching, he said, “I checked the areas upstairs. This place is a ghost town. You got anything?”

“Indeed.” Mr. Ketch said, grunting, as he dragged a vampire woman behind him. “I found her hiding in the basement with the corpses.”

“Let me go!” the vampire woman yelled into Mr. Ketch’s face before she snapped at him. Mr. Ketch just chuckled and looked towards Dean and then back at the vampire.

“Where are your friends?” he asked, keeping his left hand firmly in the vampire’s hair and shaking her head once.

“I don’t know.” She replied, her eyes interlocked with his.

Mr. Ketch huffed, put his machete to the side, and punched the woman in the face. Because she had fallen to the floor by the impact of his fist, he grabbed her by the collar and picked her up again, asking, “Where are they?” before punching her again. “Tell-“ A punch. “Me-“ Another punch. “now.” Mr. Ketch demanded, ready to keep punching her.

But Dean intervened, demanding to interrogate her himself. “You are gonna need to tell us where your friends are.”

“And you’ll let me go?” the vampire asked softly.

“I’ll make it quick.” He said in a matter-of-fact-tone.

“Hunting. They went hunting.”

“Hunting whom?” Mr. Ketch asked.

“The hunters.” The woman finally confessed. Those were the last words she uttered before Mr. Ketch, grabbed her by the hair again, dragged her up, reached for the machete and cut off her head in one swift move, her blood splatting all over Mr. Ketch’s clothes and hands.

“We have to find them asap. Now, where can we find my mother?” Dean asked, quickly standing up and now facing Mr. Ketch.

Mr. Ketch looked Dean in the eyes for a moment, evaluating him. Then he told Dean to stay right where he was standing and that he’d be back in five minutes. Dean looked annoyed, but didn’t say anything.

After Mr. Ketch got rid of the girl, he immediately grabbed Dean by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “You know seeing you in action, I have to say you are too soft with these monsters. Maybe I was wrong when I proposed that the Men of Letters were an excellent fit for someone like you. Maybe you are not such a stone-cold killer after all.”

Dean was just thinking of a snarky remark when he was suddenly turned around, facing the wall, and realized that within seconds both, his jeans and underpants, were now down around his ankles and that Mr. Ketch was currently palming his erection. Dean had no idea how Mr. Ketch managed to turn him around, open his jeans, and coat his hand with lube with such speed, but he was definitely not going to complain. Also, Dean had had enough hookups in cheap bars and hot quickies in the bathroom to know how long it took him to get hard, but this? Mr. Ketch was truly something else entirely, as the record time it took him to get fully hard as soon as that posh British Men of Letters guy did as much as just push him against a wall, would even put teenage-Dean to shame.

“Maybe you are just good as a toy or tool and nothing else, Dean.” Mr. Ketch said, as he now, additionally to jerking Dean off, started fucking Dean against the wall, vampire blood and some dirt clinging to both of their bodies. Dean wished he could argue that this didn’t feel right or that he didn’t want it, but the truth was that it felt amazing to be fucked like this after Mr. Ketch had just killed that vampire. The only thing that could have made it even better was if he himself had killed her, but he also knew that once they were done here and arrived at the British Men of Letters compound that he would get plenty of opportunities to kill vampires. But as much as he enjoyed this, he still felt the urgency of heading towards his mother and the vampires, worried and angry about what could happen should they arrive to late just because they had been fooling around. But lucky for Dean, Mr. Ketch must have had similar thoughts for he now sped up both his thrusts and his hand movements. Dean steadied himself against the wall with his hands so the force of the thrusts wouldn’t throw him off balance, and only a few moments later he painted the wall with his semen, feeling Mr. Ketch come inside him shortly after. And once again, Mr. Ketch didn’t give Dean much time to think or do anything. He just made a knot around the used condom, threw it inside a nearby pile of trash, zipped up his jeans, and told Dean to be ready and out by the car in 5. Dean didn’t know whether to smile or to roll his eyes about this strict tone and discipline. But of course he obeyed and quickly put up his jeans and underpants again.

~µ~

“Listen, just one last thing before we head out again,” Dean said, the door of the Impala open and he with one foot already inside the car. “I… erm… the thing that happened in the bunker and just right now in the motel… us two-“

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Dean!“ Mr. Ketch said, interrupting Dean. “Nobody gives a toss about the ways you or I let off some steam, or with whom.” Mr. Ketch said, annoyed, while putting his helmet on. He started the engine of his bike and drove away.

“Good talk!” Dean said out loud, nodded affirmatively, and climbed into his car, eager to follow Mr. Ketch and help his mom fight a whole nest of vampires.


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark when the boys and Mick arrived at the ’Wilk Elk Lodge.’

Sam got out of the Impala, looked at the hotel, and said, “This place, uh, seems a little…”

“Shabby? Yeah. Three stars was the best I could do. Least our bean counters will be happy. Booked us all suites.” Mick said. 

“Wait, you… We’re in separate rooms?” Sam asked, stunned.

“Yeah, of course.” Mick replied, like it was a matter of course. 

“You say three stars?” Dean asked, and Mick confirmed. “So, we’re talking fresh towels, little baby shampoos?” Mick confirmed once again and added that there also might be a pool, before he turned towards the entrance and entered the hotel lobby. It was all Dean had to hear. He tossed his keys to Sam, told him to get the bags, and followed Mick into the lobby, where he grabbed two fistfuls of mints from a jar on a desk and shoved them into his pocket. Then he walked into the general direction Mick had gone just a few minutes ago.

~μ~~μ~~μ~ 

Once the Winchesters and Mick had checked in at the front desk and got their room keys, they walked towards their respective rooms. And though it already felt weird enough to be in different hotel rooms, it felt even weirder to the Winchesters once they realized that they were even on different floors. 

Still very much excited for the little pieces of chocolate and the baby shampoos, Dean opened the door to his room only to be greeted by Mr. Ketch sitting at the desk at the opposite side of the room, a glass of scotch in his hand. 

“Hello, Dean.” Mr. Ketch said, nonchalant, as soon as Dean made eye contact with him. Dean let his bag drop to the floor. Angry, he replied, “Son of a bitch! What are you doing here?”

“Dean, Dean, Dean. Do you really think this is the proper way to greet a colleague?” Mr. Ketch asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“First of all, you are not my colleague, and second, how did you know I am here?” Mr. Ketch raised an eyebrow after hearing the second question, conveying “really, Dean?”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. **Why** are you here? Do you have some sort of powwow with your pal Mick or are those surprise visits just your own way of harassing me into joining your club? Because, newsflash: we’ve already joined your super elitist club. I mean, not that I would mind any of your visits as long as you bring good booze, but still, it’s pretty annoying.”

“Well, what do you think?” Mr. Ketch asked as he got up from his chair and walked towards Dean. “I’ll give you a hint,” he said as he pulled Dean inside the room, closed the door behind him, and shoved him right back against it, already starting to unbutton Dean’s jeans.

“Oh, so you really think getting fucked by you on a regular basis will work as a strategy to convince me to fully trust you and your British Men of Letters gang? Really? Are you actually **that** stupid?”

Mr. Ketch huffed. “Well, no, Dean. I’m not, as you put it, ‘that stupid,’ actually-,“ he dropped Dean’s jeans and underpants to the floor, “I’m currently very aroused because I got to kill quite a few monsters today and therefore I would really like to let off some steam, so…” Mr. Ketch looked Dean deep in the eyes, one of his hands firmly wrapped around Dean’s cock, making the matter of fact state of the situation abundantly clear for Dean. 

“Right.” Dean just said, his voice a bit raspy.

“Good. Glad we clarified that. Besides, as I’ve told you before, I really don’t care if you join us. I just enjoy using you as a convenient distraction, especially as I’m sure you don’t mind.” Mr. Ketch said while stroking Dean’s slowly hardening penis. 

“No, of course not.“ Dean replied absentmindedly.

“Splendid. Now off you pop onto the bed, I don’t have all night.” Mr. Ketch said nonchalantly.

With wobbly legs, Dean walked over to the bed, stripping out of the rest of his clothes along the way. But before he got on the bed, he turned around one last time, stark naked, and said, “But you ain’t gonna sleep here, capisce? I need my beauty sleep!”

Mr. Ketch let out a short, abrasive laugh. “Do you really think I’d be interested in cuddling with you, Dean?”

Dean immediately turned away again, exhaling grudgingly, “No, of course not. But I just wanted to make it clear.”

“What was that?” Mr. Ketch asked. “I couldn’t hear you,” he added, walking up to the bed.

“Nothing.” Dean replied. 

“Don’t you mean, ‘nothing, SIR,’ Dean?” 

Dean let out a deep sigh, “Nothing, sir.” He exhaled, putting extra emphasis on the last bit. Still disgruntled, he stood in front of the bed, looking longingly at the chocolates on the pillows.

Mr. Ketch followed Dean’s look, rolled his eyes, and exhaled, snorting, “God, you are worse than a little child, Dean! If I didn’t know any better, I’d even dare to assume that you just can’t wait to jump into the hotel pool without any swim trunks on.” 

Dean didn’t say anything but just risked a quick glance at Mr. Ketch before he crawled onto the bed, removed the chocolates from the pillows, and put them neatly on the nightstand before he placed his hands and knees firmly on the bed, awaiting for Mr. Ketch to use him. Meanwhile Mr. Ketch took another sip from his scotch and got rid of his clothes.

Dean knew that the quickest way to end this visit was to just play along with whatever Mr. Ketch had planned to do with and to him. To just switch off his brain completely and simply be Mr. Ketch’s will-less sex doll for the time being. At least that’s how Dean tried to rationalize it because he would never admit that he actually longed for the rough handling Mr. Ketch had bestowed upon him last time. He would never ever admit that, though he had trouble walking the next day, he had actually loved the aftermath-pain of last time’s visit. Never admit that he enjoyed this new sort of pain, both while fucking and afterwards, always curious of how this new sort of pain affected his movements, and that once it was gone, he just couldn’t wait for Mr. Ketch to visit him again. 

So when Mr. Ketch now started preparing him for the inevitable, Dean only tried to resist for the briefest of moments before he let himself get lost in the harsh, commanding words and rough handling of Mr. Ketch. And when Dean dared to look over his shoulder, multiplying his lust by not only feeling but also seeing Mr. Ketch’s fingers repeatedly disappearing into his body, he got rewarded with a firm slap on his backside and the beautiful sight of Mr. Ketch’s cock being fully hard and ready for action. 

“Eyes front!” Mr. Ketch demanded. Dean did as he was told and looked straight ahead again, propping himself on the pillows. And the more fingers Mr. Ketch used and the faster his movements got, the more impatient Dean became, desperate for feeling Mr. Ketch split him open again. “Please, sir. Please, fuck me!” Dean begged, desperate for the joyous and painful replacement for Mr. Ketch’s fingers.

Mr. Ketch just smiled. “So beautiful,” Mr. Ketch exhaled. “It’s like you were made for this.” He added, letting out a short dismissive laugh. 

“Please, sir. I… I can’t wait. Please… sir, more. I want more. I want to feel your cock deep inside of me.” Dean begged.

“You want more, Dean?”

“Y-yes. Oh, yes. Please!” Dean begged once again.

“But you are not ready yet.”

“I don’t care. Please… just do it!” Dean demanded, breathing heavily as Mr. Ketch was now increasing the speed in which he was moving his fingers in and out of Dean, repeatedly brushing over his prostate in the process.

“What about the pain?” Mr. Ketch asked teasingly. 

“Screw it. I want more!” Dean spat out angrily; desperately yearning for the actual physical pain he would be able to feel for days, making him remember this moment for a long time afterwards. 

Mr. Ketch laughed out loud again. He withdrew his fingers and leaned over until he could whisper into Dean’s left ear, “you don’t mind the pain, do you, Dean?” 

“No.” Dean exhaled.

“You actually enjoy the pain, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What’s that?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean quickly corrected his answer. 

“Pain turns you on, doesn’t it? Pain is something all too familiar to you, little soldier, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean chocked out. 

Mr. Ketch smirked. “What if I were to inflict some other kind of pain to you while shagging, Dean? Would you like that? Would you maybe even enjoy that, Dean? Mmm… would you? Answer me!”

“Yes! Oh god, yes!” Dean quickly replied, as he suddenly felt Mr. Ketch’s hand wrapped around his penis, stroking it lightly. 

“Interesting.” Mr. Ketch concluded. Though he hadn’t planned on staying long in Dean’s presence that evening, he immediately had an idea for how he could torture Dean for hours if only he were to stay in Dean’s hotel room that night. And fuck, if his imagination wasn’t running wild right now! So wild in fact that picturing that scenario almost made him come right on the spot. But lucky for him, he still had enough discouraging images in his mind to calm himself down again. 

Dean moaning beneath him made Mr. Ketch come back to reality again. He knew that pictures or not, he sure wouldn’t last long with such a willing and submissive participant in tonight’s evening activity. Quickly he put on a condom, poured some lube into his hand, and coated his dick before he finally pressed into Dean, and… oh, fuck! It was so hot and unbelievably tight and the way Dean was whimpering into one of the pillows was just pure music to his ears. 

“Now, Dean.” Mr. Ketch said, slowly thrusting into Dean, “tell me, do you like that? Does it hurt every-,“ a thrust, “time,” another thrust, “I move in,” thrust, “and out,” thrust, “of you?” 

Dean wanted to scream the answer out so loud that they would hear him even across state borders, because, yes. Yes, of course it hurt. But he also very much enjoyed it. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t scream it out loud. Instead he moved his head towards Mr. Ketch and moaned as quiet as he could, “yes. Yes, I like it.” Pure lust, desperation, and longing burning in his eyes. In fact, Dean wanted more. “Harder,” he ordered, so out of breath he could barely get the words out. “Fuck me harder, sir. Come on, you British son of a bitch! You know exactly what you want to do to me. Harder! Harder!” Dean demanded, not sure from where he took the courage to demand something like this so shamelessly. Demand it like he wasn’t already begging desperately for Mr. Ketch to fill him up. “Come on, you son of a bitch! I thought you said you were horny after a hard day’s work. So show me! Show me how much you want to fuck me, sir.” Dean added provocatively.

And Mr. Ketch gladly followed those demands. With a giant grin on his face, he started thrusting so hard into him that it pushed Dean halfway up the bed and almost right up against the headboard. Dean’s moans grew more desperate and though he knew that Mr. Ketch enjoyed every sound he made, notwithstanding if he was torturing or fucking him, he also knew that the other hotel guests probably wouldn’t enjoy it quite as much, so he tried to stifle his moans as well as he could. But no matter what he did, Mr. Ketch just kept pulling away whatever pillow and part of blanket he used to bury his face into. He realized that he had to find a way to both be audible enough for Mr. Ketch to hear and yet at the same time try to keep his moans as quiet as possible, hoping none of the neighbors could hear and complain about him. After all, this wasn’t one of the motels he was usually staying in, this was a three star hotel and he didn’t want to be thrown out of it.

But all his attempts were in vain as Mr. Ketch now seemed to have abandoned any restraints he’d previously had. Mercilessly, he started thrusting into Dean over and over and over again, grunting with each thrust, getting completely lost in the moment, enjoying every single sound he succeeded to illicit from Dean and that Dean couldn’t stifle. “Is that what you want, Dean?” Mr. Ketch asked.

“Yes. Yes, sir. Do it! Fuck me!” Dean demanded.

Mr. Ketch tightened his grip on Dean’s waist and tangled his hand in Dean’s hair, yanking his head back. Mr. Ketch kept fucking him like a wild animal now and Dean found it harder and harder not to scream out from the top of his lungs while Mr. Ketch gloried every last loud moan he still successfully elicited from Dean. He got off on every helpless whimper that left Dean’s lips because he wasn’t allowed to touch himself. He bathed in every last involuntary movement, which he could use as a cue for punishing Dean with slaps on his arse. Mr. Ketch fucked him so hard, he knew that he was hurting him, but he didn’t care and evidently neither did Dean. 

Dean tried to free himself from Mr. Ketch’s grip, tried to stifle his moans once again, but he barely succeeded when he already felt Mr. Ketch’s grip tightening again, yanking his head back. But Dean didn’t protest, on the contrary. For the brief moment he was able to break free, he cried out, “don’t stop!” before he felt his head being pulled back, forcing him to stare up the ceiling while he was being all but shamelessly destroyed by his bedmate. Dean’s groans grew more desperate, less controlled, and his body was trembling as he was gasping for air.

“I take it, you like it then, Dean?”

“Yes. Yes, of course I fucking like it, you son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed, completely ignoring the pain he felt every time Mr. Ketch moved in and out of him. 

“Language, Dean!” Mr. Ketch scolded him, slapping his ass. 

Halfway out of his mind, Dean somehow still managed to say, “sorry!” before he felt Mr. Ketch pounding into him again. 

But Mr. Ketch still couldn’t resist. “Tell me, Dean, do you want me to stop? Do you?” Mr. Ketch asked provocatively.

“No.” Dean managed to growl. “Don’t you fucking dare stop! Just keep going!” Dean demanded. And Mr. Ketch did. He pressed Dean’s upper body on the bed before he grabbed both of Dean’s arms and crossed them behind Dean’s back, giving him better leverage over Dean’s body, and leaned over to whisper into Dean’s ear, “I wouldn’t dream of it,” before he began moving again, more frantic than before, relentlessly pumping even harder into Dean and thereby repeatedly brushing over Dean’s prostate, while at the same time completely ignoring Dean’s aching cock. 

Dean had long lost any kind of feeling for space or time, all his brain succeeded to process was unquenchable lust and a very firm longing for more… more pain, more pleasure, more commands, and most of all, more ruthlessness in handling him on Mr. Ketch’s part. “Fuck. Yes, just like that, sir!” Dean groaned. Mr. Ketch just smirked and continued his movements. 

And though he was finally able to attempt burying his face in the bed sheets again, it was frustrating for Dean that there was absolutely nothing he could use to create friction for his dick. He did try to move, to lower himself on the bed so he could at least grind against the bed sheets, but Mr. Ketch quickly pulled him up again. “Remember your place, Dean. You aren’t allowed to come before I do.” Mr. Ketch stated, not being entirely convinced if Dean wouldn’t be able to come regardless if his dick was being touched or not.

Dean whimpered, but didn’t protest, and Mr. Ketch simply continued enjoying himself, trying to sink his cock even deeper into Dean than it had been before, trying to defile even the deepest areas of Dean he could reach. He knew that Dean was enjoying the pain, and Mr. Ketch was hungry for the enjoyment it brought him knowing that **he** was the one making him feel that way. The thoughts and images rushing through Mr. Ketch’s head were too much to bear now. Only moments later, he felt his orgasm rushing up on him and hitting him like a freight train on full speed. His hips quivered and for a second it knocked him out completely, so that he had to let go of Dean’s hands and steady himself on the back of the man whose ass he was currently filling up with his seed.

As soon as Mr. Ketch let go of his hands, Dean took the chance of jerking himself off, which given the recent treatment, took him far less time than he thought it would. After only a few couple of strokes he started sputtering thick white ropes of cum, making a mess of the bed sheet beneath him. His ass clenched around Mr. Ketch’s still inserted penis, milking it until every last drop of Mr. Ketch’s cum was collected in the condom inside his ass. 

Mr. Ketch didn’t take much time to relax. Quickly, he eased out of Dean, stood up from the bed, and disappeared into the bathroom, heading straight for the shower. Dean meanwhile slumped on the bed beside the pool of semen and savored the post-coital afterglow. “You are welcome.” Dean spoke into the darkness with a smug smile on his face once he heard the shower being turned on. 

Even though Dean didn’t smoke, he somehow couldn’t help but think how cliché it would be if Mr. Ketch were to come out of the shower now and find him in bed, smoking and still naked, awaiting to be used for round two or to be paid like a cheap, little whore who had done her job for the night. Dean’s thought poofed away as soon as he moved his hand and it landed in the pool of semen he had left behind. “Shit!” Dean sighed and stood up to check if he could find a new bedspread in one of the drawers in the room. Not that he had high hopes for finding one, but he still thought he just might get lucky.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t find any, so he decided to taste the scotch Mr. Ketch had brought him instead. And just as he was about to pour himself a glass of Mr. Ketch’s scotch, the very same British assassin came out of the bathroom. 

Wrapped in a towel, he joined Dean and indicated to Dean to pour him a scotch as well. Once they toasted, Mr. Ketch took a sip before he addressed Dean. “As much as I appreciated this evening, Dean, I recommend you don’t mention my visit to anyone, least of all Mick. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, sir.” Dean confirmed.

“Oh and though I won’t be spending the night with you, I recommend you get the bed sheets changed. They are filthy now that you have ejaculated all over them.”

“Erm… yes, sir.” Dean replied, turning red.

“In fact,” Mr. Ketch said, downing his drink in one go, “I recommend you eat the chocolates you’ve been gauging like a little child and which you’ve put aside previously. Let’s just call it recompense for having been such an obedient, little soldier this evening.” He continued as he was getting dressed very quickly now. “In fact, I order you to take a swim in the hotel pool, Dean.” Mr. Ketch concluded.

Dean was speechless for a moment. So Mr. Ketch continued to explain, “Though I’ve to admit that this hotel is definitely too shabby for my taste to even consider staying in, I’m pretty sure that, based on your experiences with only the lowest of lowest class, cheap hotel rooms you and your brother are usually staying in, this three star hotel must already feel like pure luxury to you.” Mr. Ketch said derogatory as he was fixing the last detail of his suit –the tie. “Therefore I recommend you start enjoying the perks of having joined us, Dean.” Mr. Ketch finished, showcasing a fake grin before he turned and began walking towards the door. 

“And whatever you do tonight, Dean, don’t forget that this isn’t one of your filthy, cheap, STD-ridden motel rooms you are usually staying in. So if I were you, I would make the most of this once in a lifetime experience, Dean. You might never get this opportunity again. So I recommend you pass on your usual hooker or stripper as companion for the night and just enjoy the perks of this room.” Dean took another sip from his scotch, ready to reply with a snarky remark, when Mr. Ketch, who had reached the door, turned around one last time. “Goodbye, Dean. Now that we are officially working together, I’m sure we’ll see each other again very soon – though hopefully next time in a much classier environment than the bunker or this hotel.” Dean immediately opened his mouth to retort, but by the time Dean had jammed the glass on the desk and had walked over to the door, Mr. Ketch was already out of the room. All Dean could do was hit the door with his fist, exclaiming, “son of a bitch!” before he locked the door and turned back towards the room. 

He knew there was no use in chasing Mr. Ketch; the chances of walking into either his brother or Mick were just too high. So instead, Dean did as Mr. Ketch had told him to do and walked over to the nightstand from where he took the chocolates, and ate them while sitting at the desk, enjoying the rest of the really fine brand of scotch along with it.

~μ~~μ~~μ~ 

The following morning the boys walked out of the hotel and stood outside for a while, chatting.

Dean told Sam how much he loved the pillows, but even more how much he loved the little chocolates he found on said pillows. “I mean, I’m ruined, Sam. Those limey sons of bitches ruined me. I even took a swim this morning.”

“You brought a swimsuit?” Sam asked, surprised. 

“No.”

“Ugh.” Sam said in disgust.

“What’d you get up to?” 

“I read through more of Mick’s lore books.”

“Really? Wow. Those three stars are wasted on you.”

Sam didn’t care what Dean said. He summed up what he had found out and just as he ended his speech, Mick joined them. 

“Plasma therapy. Useless, I’m afraid. So how were your accommodations, lads?” Mick asked while they heard the Impala’s engine as it drew nearer.

“I’ve had better nights’ sleep in my baby.” Dean said dismissively. “Get in. Let’s go.” He added. And when Mick got in the car, he leaned over to Sam, saying, “Not gonna give him the satisfaction.” While at the same time he was thinking that after all, Mr. Ketch had gotten enough satisfaction last night for the both of those British sons of bitches. 

Dean walked over to the driver’s side of the car, or at least he tried to as good and inconspicuous as he could while he felt the pain of last night’s actions with every single step he took, and once everybody was seated, he drove away, sated in more than just one aspect.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!! Hope you enjoy this little Christmas present :) Special thanks to my beloved beta reader tmchen for her quick corrections!! <3 <3

After Eileen accidentally killed Renny Rawlings, she and the Winchester brothers went back to the bunker. At the bottom of the stairs Dean turned to Eileen and asked whether she was okay. Eileen first nodded and then shook her head, indicating that she was anything but okay. Eileen was devastated because this time, she hadn’t killed a monster – or at least not a literal one. She had killed an actual human being and she felt awful because of it. Sam couldn’t bear seeing her like that, so he put his hand on her left shoulder, indicating for her to turn around. Then he signed and talked to her that it was a mistake. Eileen was utterly discouraged and reached for Sam, who pulled her into a comforting hug. 

Dean looked at them and decided it’d be best to leave them alone, so he went to his own room… where Mr. Ketch was surprisingly already waiting for him. “Hello, Dean,” he said. 

“Oh, give me a break!” Dean exclaimed, irritated. 

“Excuse me?” Mr. Ketch asked, incredulous. 

“Oh nothing. It’s just that it’s very bad timing on your part. So, if you wouldn’t mind coming back at a later point, I’d be very grateful if you were to leave now. Thank you.” Dean replied, defeated, pointing at the open door.

Instead of an answer, Mr. Ketch just walked over to the door and shut it. “Just to make one thing absolutely clear, Dean, because obviously you haven’t understood that fact yet, when it comes to our night-time meetings, there is NO such thing as ‘bad timing.’” Mr. Ketch said, slowly turning around to face Dean. 

Dean gulped. He didn’t know what else to do. He was absolutely knackered and honestly, the last thing he wanted was to get into yet another fight tonight, so he tried to mobilize the last bit of strength that was left in him to play along. “Yes, sir.” He replied in a raspy voice. “What do you want me to do?” he added.

“That’s my boy! And seeing as you asked very nicely this time, let me answer as plain as I can. I’ve been thinking, Dean. You’ve proven to be able to take orders –at least to a certain extent- without messing up and that’s why I’ve decided we could try something new this time.” 

Dean tried his hardest not to roll his eyes or give a snarky reply, tried his best to stay as stoic as possible, therefore he simply repeated his question as calmly as he was able to, “what do you want me to do?”

Mr. Ketch smirked and said, “Dean, I’ve been thinking long and hard since our last meeting and to be perfectly honest with you I’ve realized that I’ve grown tired of doing a job that you yourself can do perfectly fine on your own.” Dean just looked blankly at him, having absolutely no idea what Mr. Ketch could mean by this. 

Mr. Ketch sat back down at the desk and got rid of his tie. “Dean, I want to watch you getting ready for me,” he said, now taking off his jacket as well, and putting it around the chair he was sitting on. 

It took Dean a second to process what Mr. Ketch had just said, but then he simply replied, “right,” and started slowly getting rid of his clothes. He didn’t even need to ask as to how and what Ketch exactly wanted him to do. He just climbed onto the bed, and sitting on his knees, facing Ketch, he slowly started caressing his upper body and pinching his nipples, trying to make the show as enticing as possible for Ketch. Cautiously, he dared to glance at Ketch before he spat in one hand and started slowly jerking off. Watching Ketch’s face intensely for any facial or verbal cue for whether or not he was even allowed to do that. But Ketch’s face didn’t show any kind of reaction other than that of a completely normal spectator of any kind of normal –boring- event. 

Eventually, just as Dean started really getting into it, Ketch’s impatience showed and he told Dean to move the show along and finally get himself ready for him. Dean didn’t hesitate for a moment but obeyed immediately. Dutifully, he grabbed the lube Ketch had left there for him to use, before he turned around and positioned himself in such a manner that provided Ketch with an excellent view of what he was about to do. 

Dean was nervous. Until he met Mr. Ketch, he had never ever experimented with being the receiving part in anal sex. Though he loved fucking other guys without mercy, he had actually never allowed any of the guys –or girls- to come anywhere near his asshole. This also included himself. Though he was never one to avoid one-night stands and/or try out new things in bed… well, or bathroom, or kitchen, or –yes- even dungeon-like rooms, and yes, though he made eager use of his porn collection, Dean had not once been tempted to try finger-fuck himself. Well, at least he hadn’t been right until now. After his first encounter with Ketch, Dean had started thinking about it, but still didn’t act upon it. Then, after their second encounter, Dean became too desperate for the feeling of having Ketch inside him again. And it didn’t help at all that at times he even dreamed of Ketch creeping into his room (or bunker, or, when they were out, a hotel room) at night, just to get off and immediately leave again. Though Dean played the part of being annoyed by Ketch doing so in reality, he couldn’t hide his enjoyment of this scenario once he fell asleep and it was all just 100% fantasy. Also, Dean would never admit that he hadn’t just started experimenting with getting himself off by adding anal-fingering to his regular jerking-off routine, no, he had even gotten himself a few toys, including a butt plug to broaden the experience - and boy did he enjoy it. If he had thought feeling a dull ache post-Ketch’s visits and enjoying it, it was absolutely nothing compared to the feeling of sometimes plugging himself up during some of their more boring parts of the job during the day. The intense orgasms Dean had when jerking off after such trips made him regret not having starting doing this even earlier. 

After a moment of reaffirming himself that he was ACTUALLY awake and that this wasn’t one of his usual dreams, Dean trembled slightly as he poured a good amount of lube on his fingers and started circling his hole with them. 

“Good boy,” was all Dean heard after a few minutes and he took it as a cue to start pushing one finger in. First slowly, then with ever-growing pace, moving his finger in and out of himself before adding a second and eventually a third one, scissoring himself open for Ketch and finger-fucking himself almost into oblivion, moaning every time he brushed over his prostate. Dean’s breathing became heavy and sweat started pouring down his forehead now, his hand slowly starting to shake.

Dean’s cock kept dripping cum all over his bed sheet the longer Dean was going, but Dean didn’t care. He was too caught up in the spectacularly good feeling of enjoying the moment, half of the excitement and adrenaline rush coming from the knowledge that Ketch was not only once again back in his room, but even more so, that Ketch was watching him. Watching every single move he made, catching every single moan he made, and though he couldn’t see him, Dean assumed and hoped that Ketch enjoyed the show in front of him. Having a fleeting image of Ketch crossing his mind, imagining him touching himself as he watched Dean, Dean intensified his efforts. He spread his legs wider and started to move his fingers faster and harder, letting them go even deeper, now shoving his three fingers in all the way to the third knuckle, even considering shoving in a fourth one. All this just to give Ketch the best show he ever had. Dean felt a weird kind of pride for being Mr. Ketch’s evening entertainment – and he sure hoped Ketch enjoyed the show he was putting on for him. 

And Mr. Ketch did indeed enjoy it. He watched Dean fall apart right in front of him; and the way Dean was writhing on the bed, just spurred Ketch on. Though Ketch had gotten rid of his tie and jacket when he had talked to Dean, he hadn’t removed any further clothing once Dean started his little show. He was still fully dressed, well, apart from his pants being unzipped and underpants being pushed aside, so his cock was free of any constrictions. Right up until now, Ketch had thoroughly enjoyed Dean’s little performance; his fully hard and leaking cock being very evident proof for that. 

Dean moaned and spread his legs wider while Ketch’s breath became quicker as he kept stroking himself – the sight in front of him was just enticing: Dean’s ass high up in the air on full display – just for him. Dean teasing him with his little performance, showing him not only how very good he was at following orders, but more importantly, just how well he was able to execute those orders. The way Dean kept pushing himself further and further, preparing himself for Ketch, trying to bury his face in the bed beneath him, trying to stifle the loud groans of pleasure, but failing… It was all Ketch was longing for to see. He didn’t know whether or not Dean had ever done this before, and to be honest, he didn’t really care, all he did know and care about was that he enjoyed the spectacle the oldest Winchester was currently putting on for him. 

But ultimately, Ketch couldn’t take the sight any longer and stood up. He walked over to Dean’s face, tracing his hand lightly along Dean’s spine from Dean’s tailbone to his cervical, before he put a hand under Dean’s chin, forcing him to look up and into Ketch’s eyes. And boy did he enjoy what he saw. Dean’s eyes were blown wide to the maximum. They were almost completely black now, making him appear like his old demon self, ramping up the thrill for Ketch to fuck him. “Good boy!” Ketch purred before he started circling Dean’s mouth with his fingers, indicating to Dean to open up. 

Once again, Dean didn’t wait for further instructions. He immediately steadied himself by putting both his hands on the bed, and then opening his mouth, waiting for Ketch to use him as he saw fit, either as he did now with his fingers, or, and Dean was desperate for option 2, with his cock. 

Ketch bend down towards Dean, letting his pants and underpants slide down his legs in the process, right until he was able to whisper, “I’m impressed, Dean. It seems like you have finally learned how to be a good, little soldier and pet. Congratulations. Now, if you could only learn how to be clean and housebroken once you’ve come, we could have so much more fun together.”

Dean growled. His patience was wearing thin, especially as he was painfully hard and desperate for finding release. “Ketch, you son of a bitch. I told you I had a shitty day, so either fuck me and leave, so I can finally unwind and process this day or stay and be annoying and I swear I’m going to use my favorite gun and blast you away right here, right now!” Dean hissed, angrily. 

Straightening back up, Ketch was shaking his head and clicking his tongue repeatedly. “Dean, Dean, Dean…. There I was thinking you’ve learned your lesson and have finally come to obey my orders, and now this?” Ketch exclaimed slightly annoyed. “Language Mr. Winchester!” Mr. Ketch chided him. “Dean, is this really how you want this to go? Mhm?” he asked. 

Dean was in a rage. It had been a long day and though he didn’t care one bit about the British son of a bitch Eileen had killed today, he was still tired, figuratively and literally, and all he wanted was to lie down and think about their next steps towards handling the whole Lucifer’s son – situation. Grudgingly, he whispered, “no.”

“Excuse me? I didn’t catch that.”

Dean took a deep breath, still angry, but too tired to actually argue, he repeated, “no, sir.” 

“And?”

“And I’m sorry for my sudden outburst. It won’t happen again. Tell me what you want me to do and I will obey… sir.” Dean replied.

Ketch smirked. “That’s the way I like it. Now, I’ve noticed that you are a little flushed.” Ketch said. “Tell me, Dean, would you like to give me another performance, mhm?” Dean looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. Maybe the day he’d be allowed to come first had finally arrived. Maybe Ketch had forgiven him his talking out of place. Could that really be true?

“Would you like to touch yourself for me? Show me the way you make yourself come, mhm? Would you like that? Would you like to lie back and come for me, Dean?!” Ketch all but purred now. 

Dean couldn’t believe his ears. And though he sensed a trap, he couldn’t resist whispering in a raspy voice, “yes. Yes that’s what I want.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what you want, Dean, isn’t it? But… I have to admit that,” the tone in Ketch’s voice now slowly changing from sweet to steel and cold again, “though you’ve given me quite a nice performance earlier, I must say that I really didn’t appreciate your outburst, therefore,” Ketch reached towards Dean’s nightstand, “I have to make sure that you finally learn to behave properly, which means denying you the privilege of another performance tonight.” Ketch opened the drawer and retrieved a small bag and out of this bag, he seized a leather cock ring. “Now, Dean, as you can see, I’ve familiarized myself with your room and its interior quite well while waiting for you. Therefore, I know what else you’ve been hiding inside this drawer, and I don’t just mean your porn collection.” The hope in Dean’s eyes faded away almost instantly. 

“I know you’ve been using all these things for causing yourself pleasure, but don’t believe I can’t use each and every single one of your toys, including some of the things in the dungeon, to cause you immense pain.” Ketch said as he handed the cock ring to Dean, “Now, I’m absolutely certain you know what this is, so off you go. Put it on!”

Dean couldn’t decide how he should react to that. On the tip of his tongue was a curse and the urge to roll his eyes at Ketch, but deep inside he felt like he’d climax any minute now if Ketch were to do as much as just threaten him with all the things he was about to do to him once he wore the cock ring. So instead of a verbal reaction, Dean just took it, trying his best to hide his excitement and enjoyment about this development, and put it on.

Once Dean had firmly adjusted himself, he instantly went back to his position on the bed of being on all fours, facing Ketch and his face being only inches away from Ketch’s leaking cock. Dean looked at it, licking his lips, yearning for Ketch to tell him that he was allowed to lick it. To suck it. To gag on it. Anything.

Of course none of this escaped Ketch’s observation. He just smiled and asked, “is there something you would like to tell me, Dean?” Dean swallowed hard and looked up into Ketch’s face, pleading silently. “Do you wish to make amends?” he asked. Dean nodded vigorously, already opening his mouth wide and leaning towards Ketch’s dick. “Ah ah, Dean. You know I like hearing your voice.”

This time, Dean didn’t even hesitate for one second. Instantly he started begging, “Please, sir, please, may I suck your cock? I’ve behaved badly and all I want is for you to use me as you see fit. Please?!” 

Ketch just smirked, “that’s my boy. Very good, Dean! I knew you could be taught.” he said while putting a condom on his cock. “Open wide!” he added as he now slowly guided his cock towards Dean’s mouth. 

Dean, happy to have an excuse to turn his brain off once again, curled his tongue along Ketch’s cock, steadying himself with his hands on Ketch’s naked thighs, or at least one of his hands. The other hand cupped Ketch’s balls, massaging them as he licked, sucked, and from time to time almost choked on Ketch’s cock. Dean was so lost in his task that he didn’t even notice the endless stream of moans and pet names Ketch kept giving him. After a few minutes, Dean just let his mouth go completely loose and bore every thrust, no matter how deep and painful it was, that Ketch was now forcing on him. Dean enjoyed being an empty shell that was Ketch’s to use. The last couple of days had been excruciating and strenuous, and all Dean wanted was to not having to think and/or care what was next for him, his brother and mother, and Cas. All he wanted was to just fuck and be fucked, and just forget about life for a few precious moments. In order words to literally fuck his brains out, or rather getting his brain fucked out by someone. And he truly knew no better choice for this job than Ketch. 

It wasn’t until Dean felt a hard yank on his hair, pulling his head back sharply and forcing him to look up at Ketch and let go of his cock that he realized that Ketch was actually trying to tell him something. “You are doing an excellent job, Dean, but after you put so much effort in getting ready for me, I think it would be a shame if I weren’t to appreciate this effort, don’t you think?” Ketch added.

“Y-yes, sir.” Dean whimpered.

“Good. Glad, we see eye to eye on this.” Ketch concluded. “Now, I’m sure you like having use of both your hands, but remembering that you’ve used them both of last times to grab pillows or other things in order to stifle your screams, I’ve decided that I prefer you not having direct access to them.” Ketch said, now grabbing his tie, which he had left on Dean’s nightstand earlier. “Turn around, Dean.” Ketch commanded, and Dean complied. Though he couldn’t help but pleading, “Sir, is that really necessary? We are not alone in the bunker this time. Sam and Eileen are here and if they hear me scream, they’ll come running to my rescue and…”

“Ah, ah, ah. What did I say, Dean? I don’t care. I know you can control your voice and your screams. You’ve proven that the last time we saw each other in the hotel. So seeing how well you performed then, and knowing who’s able to hear you know and how the acoustic works in here, I’m sure you can do it again.” Ketch said, tying the final knots in Dean’s restrictions. 

A little bit frustrated and with his hands bound behind his back, Dean let himself get lowered downwards, burying his face in the bed, eagerly waiting for what was about to come next. “Now, I know you’ve been thorough, but…” Ketch spread Dean’s legs a little wider and grabbed the lube from the bed, as he just couldn’t resist the urge of sliding a couple of lubed fingers inside of Dean. 

Dean immediately moaned, stars exploding behind his closed eyelids as Ketch now repeatedly brushed over his prostate, making him tremble. “Please, sir. Stop teasing, and… fuck! I’m ready, just… please! Please just fuck me already!” 

“Patience is a virtue, Dean, don’t you know that?” Mr. Ketch exclaimed self-satisfyingly, continuing his task calmly. 

Dean really didn’t care at this point. He tried to stifle his groans as much as he could, but still he couldn’t stop begging. “Please, sir, you are killing me. Please, please put your cock in me and fuck me. Fuck me hard. I want it. I need it. I-“ That was all Dean was able to say before he suddenly felt the fingers being removed and within seconds replaced with Ketch’s cock being buried deep inside of him. “Fuck!” Dean cursed, moaning loudly, while at the same time trying to control the volume. 

Dean had indeed done an excellent job beforehand. He was completely loose, making it almost too easy for him to breach Dean’s quivering, hungry hole. Ketch had seen Dean’s several toys and though he knew it would make their current meeting easier, he didn’t suspect that it would make it so much easier and more pleasurable. “Good Dean! Very good. I don’t think, your brother suspects anything, but let’s see just how long you can keep that up, shall we?” Ketch now grabbed Dean’s hands, lifting him upwards in the process, and started slowly moving in and out of Dean. Dean’s breathing started hitching. He was still painfully hard, but not being able to come due to the cock ring and forced to control the volume of his moans and screams was anything but easy. Plus, having his whole weight now resting solely on his knees, while Ketch held his arms, making his body imitate a right angle, he felt his shoulders starting to burn from the force with which Ketch was forcing him up- and backwards. And yet, Dean felt like he had entered another round in heaven. Ketch was in full control over his body and Dean more than willingly gave up all the reins. 

“Mhm… you truly were made for this Dean.” Ketch exhaled, breathily, as he now sped up the process. “I have to say, you are definitely one of my favorite toys.”

Dean moaned and begged, “want… need… more. Yes, sir. Please don’t stop.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Ketch said, ruthlessly thrusting into Dean, while keeping both of them steady by holding on to Dean’s tied hands. 

“Want you to fill me up, sir. Want you to be merciless. Please, just fuck me. Fill me with your load!” Dean groaned after a few minutes.

Ketch smirked and yanked Dean further up, right until he was back to back with the oldest Winchester, keeping him steady by wrapping his arms around Dean’s upper body, whispering into his ear, “you really want that, don’t you? You want me to get rid off the condom and shag you bareback? Pump all my precious seed inside you, is that what you truly want, Dean? Is it?” 

Dean was just an empty shell by this point, so he just kept begging, “yes, sir. That’s what I want. I want to feel it leak out of me once you are gone. Please, fuck me. Fuck me hard.” 

Ketch just kept thrusting into Dean. Dean’s hands between their bodies desperately trying to hold on to Ketch’s button-down shirt. “Well, as much as you might like this, but I definitely won’t do that. You know I hate filth and what would be the point of teaching you manners in the bedroom if I weren’t having them myself, Dean?” Ketch whispered before he decided that Dean once again could do this job so much better on his own. So he stilled for a minute, taking time to breathe and calm himself down till he wasn’t on the edge of nearly coming anymore, and by holding on Dean’s upper body, he turned both of them around, letting himself fall down onto the bed before adjusting both of their positions. Ketch’s torso and legs up to his knees were now lying on the bed, his feet were firmly placed on the ground, while Dean was sitting on his thighs, Ketch’s cock was still inside of him, and his feet were almost touching the ground, but not quite. 

“Come on, Dean. Show me what you’ve got. Show me how much you enjoy being a cowboy sitting on a saddle with a living, breathing dildo. Come on, ride me, Dean.” 

Though Dean was speechless for a second, he didn’t wait for Ketch to say or do anything else, instead he almost instantly started moving, his restrictions forcing him to bent backwards a little bit so he could steady himself on Ketch’s upper body. But once he got the hang of it, Dean mercilessly started moving up and down, and back and forth on Ketch’s dick, enjoying the feeling of finally being an active, instead of a passive participant in their meeting. And every moan he managed to elicit from Ketch was pure music to his ears and only spurred him on to intensify his efforts.

“Mhm… yes, Dean. You are such an obedient little slut for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You love it, don’t you, Dean? You love having my cock in your tight hole, ready and waiting for you to ride it for as long as you want to. Don’t you, Dean?” Ketch asked teasingly. 

But all Dean managed for an answer was a long stretched moan. Dean enjoyed the fact that, though he was the one in restrictions, he was still the one who was currently controlling the situation. Controlling how fast or slow Ketch’s cock experienced friction and therefore how long or short it would take him to come. Dean rode Ketch like he had never done anything else in his entire life, enjoying the angle in which his prostate got repeatedly caressed, yearning for the moment when he was allowed to removed the cock ring and finally find his own release.

But as much as Dean enjoyed the situation, it was nothing compared to the joy and satisfaction Ketch felt, happy how well his current underling performed his duty. With Dean doing all the work, Ketch took a moment to simply enjoy the moment of having someone else executing all the work for him – and not just that, but also doing a very fine job at doing so, too. This evening definitely couldn’t have gone more smoothly and more relaxed for him. Ketch let Dean have his fun for a while, before he decided that he probably should head back to headquarters. After all, Dr. Hess did call for him specifically for when she was about to confront Mick. And after all, it would take him a minute or two to arrive there and get rid off the sex stench in his clothes. 

So as much as he enjoyed his show, Ketch all but shoved Dean’s body sideways back down on the bed. “Sorry, Dean, but I really think, we should move this along. I’m sure you don’t mind.” He added, positioning Dean once again on the bed on his knees, ass up in the air, while Ketch positioned himself against Dean’s ass, sliding back inside of him within seconds.

Dean immediately started burying his face in the bed again, too desperate, too horny, and too stripped of any kind of emotions or thoughts, besides finally finding sexual release. “Please,” he begged one more time, before he started screaming as loud as he could into the bed.

Ketch adjusted Dean and himself one last time before he plunged his cock even deeper into Dean than he had before, assaulting him, defiling him, torturing him with every thrust, with every yank at Dean’s hands, proving to Dean that he was the one and only who got to decide what was happening between them. 

And Dean didn’t protest. Once again, this scenario proved to him just how much he enjoyed, yes even loved, the pain, Ketch provided him with, simply because pain was something he was so entirely used to. It was like an old friend, of whom you knew that he was no good because he would always get you into trouble, but you still just couldn’t resist seeing and meeting all the time, because being with this friend was just too damn addictive and pleasurable. 

“Harder!” Dean ordered, so out of breath and hoarse, he could barely get the words out. “Fuck me harder, sir. I need it. I deserve it. Harder, sir!” Ketch didn’t say anything but just kept pounding into Dean, harder, and even more relentless than before, feeling the all too familiar slow, magnetic build up of pressure in his lower half. Only seconds later, Ketch came hard, spurting his cum over and over again into Dean’s ass. 

As soon as Ketch had some control back over his brain, he immediately eased out of Dean, his hand firmly around the base of his cock and the condom he was wearing. After he disposed of it, he removed Dean’s cock ring and untied Dean’s hands, telling him that he was now allowed to come as well. 

And it was definitely nothing you’d have to tell him twice. After only a couple of strokes, Dean was overcome by an overwhelming and all to familiar feeling of bliss as he started spurting his cum all over his bed sheet, making Ketch roll his eyes and watch in disgust. But Dean didn’t care. He simply rested his head on the bed while his hips kept shuddering and his cock kept pulsing, forcing even the last bit of hot, white semen out of him. 

And while Dean was riding the last waves of post-coital high, Ketch had already gotten fully dressed again. He looked at Dean one last time. Being fully aware of the fact that Mick hadn’t killed Eileen and assuming that it was therefore only a matter of time until he had to do that job himself, Ketch enjoyed for a few precious moments that he had truly made the best use of his time during this probably last meeting with Dean until he was called back to business. Quickly, Ketch returned to his stoic composure and after saying his goodbyes, he started walking towards the door.

And just as Ketch was about to exit through the door, Dean called out to him that he had forgotten his –weirdly feminine looking- necklace on the desk. But Ketch just smiled while standing in the open door, his hand firmly around the door handle, “No, Mr. Winchester. This is not my necklace. Have a closer look at it. Don’t you recognize it? Doesn’t it look familiar to you? Not even the slightest? Well then, shame on you for being such a bad son. It’s actually your mother’s. She forgot it at the motel a couple of hours ago. It must have slipped out of her pocket somehow when she left.” Mr. Ketch let the words hang in the air for a few seconds before he continued, “because in case you haven’t realized it yet, I-“ He looked at Dean’s ass, “never leave anything behind, and least of all evidence of my sexual encounters.” Ketch concluded with just a slight hint of a smirk before he closed the door behind him and left.

Though Dean was usually a quick thinker, the post-coital bliss must have slowed down his thinking capacity because it seriously took him one second too long to realize what Ketch had actually just implied. “British son of a bitch!” Dean cursed, and sprang up from his bed, quickly put on some underpants, and ran into the corridor. But to his dismay, Ketch was nowhere to be seen. Dean was fuming, and ran all the way to the entrance door, but he still couldn’t see him anywhere. Dean thought about the chances of Ketch still hiding somewhere in the bunker, but just as he was turning around, ready to look in every goddamn room if necessary and also ready to walk straight to Sam’s quarter and tell him all about Ketch and their mum’s affair, he saw Eileen. She was only wearing one of Sam’s flannels, and her hands were full with two bowls of ice cream including two spoons and some chocolate syrup. As Dean was thoroughly hidden by the stairs and height difference in the room, he was able to see that she was apparently trying to sneak back into Sam’s room. When Dean saw this, he smiled, his anger towards Ketch evaporating immediately. At least those two had some proper fun.

~μ~~μ~~μ~

Back at the British Men of Letters US bunker, Mr. Ketch freshened up, talked to Dr. Hess, and waited for Mick to arrive. Seeing as Mr. Ketch already had his suspicions to what the outcome of this meeting would be, he came prepared. He had added a silencer to his gun and according to Dr. Hess’ order he stayed in the back of the room once Mick arrived, ready to kill him as soon as Dr. Hess gave him a sign.


End file.
